


Sweet Sangria/ Peachy Perfect

by WhatSoMalfoy



Series: Rare Pairs LDWS [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Honeymoon, Short & Sweet, angry Daphne, sangria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:46:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29740329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatSoMalfoy/pseuds/WhatSoMalfoy
Summary: Harry and Daphne are on their honeymoon, and Daphne wants to make them some traditional Sangria***At a family BBQ, Harry's wife, Daphne, takes issue with a certain red-headed friend of Harry's.***Two separate drabbles written for the rare pairs edition of LDWS. This week's theme was Orange/ Creativity with a word count limit of 100. I submitted the first drabble into the competition... perhaps I should have done the second one, because I was eliminated this week. However, I have had such a great time participating so a big thank you to Floor Coasted and DreamsofDramione (the admins of the comp) for making it so fun!
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Harry Potter
Series: Rare Pairs LDWS [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165721
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Sweet Sangria/ Peachy Perfect

Golden russets, oranges and pinks swirled through the sky and reflected off of the silent sea. Leaning over the porch railing, Harry absorbed the warmth of the late sun. Inside, his new wife was trying her hand at making a traditional sangria.

Daphne insisted that it was a creative outlet; the slicing of citrus fruits, the muddling of spices with sugar and brandy— that she enjoyed it, but her colourful language suggested otherwise.

Chuckling in resignation, Harry pushed off the railing and moved back inside to help her. Besides, he had a different, more sensual idea for those sweet oranges.

* * *

Taking her sliced oranges and all but throwing them into the pitcher, Daphne muttered viciously to herself. Muddling the citrus with the fruit, sugar, spices and brandy more aggressively than was called for, she slopped in the orange juice.

 _Daft bint couldn’t be more obvious if she tried,_ Daphne fumed silently.

“Alright in here, love?” Harry questioned from the doorway.

“Peachy fucking perfect,” Daphne responded flatly.

“If you’re sure then,” Harry started to back away.

Daphne whirled on him then, brandishing a wooden spoon in his direction.

“Tell that Orang-utan to keep her hands off you!”

Harry gulped, “Will do.”


End file.
